a·men·i·ty
by cynicalbroad
Summary: Amenity - "The pleasantness of a place or a person." / Some unbearably short Maurmon/Simice excerpts I wrote last year soon after reading LOTF. Unedited, so any mistakes are totally the fault of me-from-a-year-ago. Potentially continued in the future, who knows.
1. Chapter 1

The cathedral was a towering fixture, spiraling so far into the sky that Simon found himself growing dizzy. To the young primary school choir boys, the building was infinite and never ending. The group, lead by their eldest, a headstrong ginger, held boys feeling varying level of nerves.

This was their first time performing.

Though they'd practiced with each other in school, they'd never gone to publicly show their melodic voices. The youngest member, a boy by the name of Henry, was clinging to the back of Simon's draping cloak as they walked along in two perfect rows nervously. Even the head boy, who usually seemed to be bursting with pride over his flawless C-Sharp walked carefully, clearly out of his element.

The second eldest of the group, a humorful tan boy called Maurice, was attempting to lighten the mood with a poor show of goofiness, and received responses varying from glares to nervous smiles. The negative reception didn't seem to deter him, his grin only widening and his mouth running ever faster. He'd gained a reputation as the unabashed and protective older sibling of the group, the head boy holding strong the role of a strict mother. After being shushed by the aforementioned head boy, Maurice mumbled a half-hearted apology with a smile, and the congregation lulled into quiet.

The sounds of footfalls and nervous murmuring echoed painfully as they marched to their destination, to the centre of the establishment.

Simon felt himself growing faint with fear and he swayed a bit in his step, looking to the high ceiling for any sign of familiarity.

As if in tune with his thoughts, Maurice slid over to him, out of his set position in formation, the movement corrected by a grumbling Robert.

His deeper voice hummed in consideration, grasping for ways to ease his choirmate's nerves. Before long, his hand slipped from under his long black cloak to grasp Simon's reassuringly.

Despite Simon's suspicions of an attack happening soon, he found himself becoming more grounded with the delicate grip encompassing his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Simon was accustomed to sneaking out of the shelters under the cover of night. It wasn't difficult to sneak past the slumbering littluns or the usual homebodies, the beach only lit with the dim light of the stars and the labor of the day enough to sink one into a deep sleep the moment they laid upon the hard ground.

But it was hard untangling yourself from the others when the hunters returned from their trek early and lodged in the same hut as you. They rested taking up as much room as possible, sprawling across the floor of whatever shelter they had deemed suitably baren to inhabit. To make matters worse, they often slept restlessly after returning from the woods, still almost frenzied from the hunt, eyes twitching underneath their lids. Simon sat silently, simply watching the stars through the shabby roof, for an impossibly long time before the breaths of the people around him grew slower and deeper. Once all had reached an equilibrium, he decided it was time to move.

After sliding out from his position situated between two of the older hunters (he couldn't quite tell who in the light, and it didn't matter, really,) he walked with hurried gracefulness to the doorway, hoping his urgency would make his absence and inevitable ruckus from movement less obvious. His bare feet pattered on the dirt and made enough noise to warrant an inward flinch and check to see if anyone had heard.

To only his slight surprise, Maurice's head slightly lifted and craned towards his direction, curly hair tangled from both navigating through the brush and laying on the floor. Paint that had grown synonymous with anyone with anything to do with Jack was applied sloppily to his face, a disheveled mask highlighting his features. Simon took an instinctive step back, feeling a bit like a nervous animal under his eyes.

His own figure, blocking light through the doorway, cast a shadow on the older in a way nothing short of ominous. This was the only time he'd ever been caught, he desperately hoped Maurice was the type to completely forget anything that happened when he was tired, what would Simon do if Ralph found out he'd been sneaking off into the woods–?

But Maurice simply raised an eyebrow, threw a tired smile, and flopped back down with more force than actually necessary to be anything but comedic. Roger and Jack, who laid close by, fidgeted at his motion, and he only chuckled lowly in response to their sleep agitation.

Simon took the opportunity presented with Maurice's apparent acception of holding the knowledge of the younger's late night escapades with an immense sense of gratitude. Scampering off into the forest, he made note to thank the older later.


End file.
